It's seven a.m. You walk outside and see the sun rising in the horizon. You hear geese honking overhead and hummingbirds buzzing near the rose bushes that paint your garden. You sit in a chair and lean back, taking a ip of green tea. You take a deep breath and exhale, letting the fresh aiir cleanse your soul. You look at the trees, say high to the squirrels, and become one with nature. As you begin to get up, you feel the slightest weight drop on your head. you reach up and feel a soft feather in between your fingers. You pull it out of your hair and feel the texture, wondering what bird it came from. As you look up to watch, you see an amazing sight, one never to be seen before. The morning sky is filled with feathers. This spectacle is witnessed from miles around, by people in mansions, and people in houses; people in apartments, and people in cardboard boxes. They all look up, and they hope. For what else can a person do, when there are "feathers in the morning sky".
Starting to like givin stories to my songs. I had fun with this one, cuz it let me bring out the poetry that is always stuck in me. Hope you enjoyed this one as much as i did.